


It Takes Two to Make a Baby

by reginahalliwell



Category: 50 Shades of Grey - E. L. James
Genre: Abortion, BDSM, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:03:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reginahalliwell/pseuds/reginahalliwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during Fifty Shades Freed. Christian finds out Ana is pregnant, and she doesn't let him blame her for it. Instead, they have an adult conversation, then she lets him take back control, and for that, they have to visit his playroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Takes Two to Make a Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Guilty pleasure doesn't mean it's unproblematic, that's for sure. I took one of the most frustrating parts of this trilogy for me and did a little rewrite. Basically, the scene where Christian finds out that Ana is pregnant goes a little differently in this fic.

I don't even know that I'm yelling until I see Christian back away, a somewhat shocked look on his face, distorting the angry and horrified visage previously there. How dare he? I didn't get pregnant all on my own.

"Christian," I entreat, adding a kind tone to my voice now, hoping it will keep him calm. "The shot failed. Think about it. I'm several weeks pregnant, about four or five, Dr. Greene said. Even though I was supposed to get my next shot a couple weeks ago, that means it didn't matter. The shot ran out early." I let him take this news in, and see him trying to comprehend what I've told him.

"No birth control is 100%, Christian, and this one clearly doesn't work perfectly. There was nothing we could have done, no way we could know it would stop working early." Another surge of anger hits me as I remember that his first reaction was to blame me for this... problem. "So don't you dare blame this on me. It is not my fault." I pause, then repeat my last statement. "It's not my fault."

I sense he's trying to figure out how to respond. The reasonable part of him has to understand that logically this makes sense, but I know that another part of him is so rash. He sees red so easily, and hates things that are beyond his control.

I search his eyes. There's an emotion in them that I don't often see from Christian--fear. He's scared? Of what? I think, and sadly there a number of things that come to mind. Rather than assume one of them is correct, I put my face in my hands and then take his hand, leading him to the playroom, where I unlock the door and pull him in.

He resists, but I turn to him and place a hand on his chest, which I know will instantly get his attention. "Take your control back. Then we'll talk."

His brow furrows like he's not sure about this. I know I'm topping from the bottom again, but that will probably never change, and he's started to get used to that, to expect it from me. I'm not a submissive, but I can be temporarily, for him. As much as has happened, as far as he's come, I know that deep down this still fulfills a need for him.

I know I've won when he sighs, relief seeping into his breath. He nods, and gestures me inside. I pause before I go through the door, knowing that I need to behave differently once I'm in there. "This isn't about punishment, right? Just about control." I phrase it like a question to give the impression that I'm unsure, when really I am saying that it can not be about punishments. I refuse to let him think I've done something wrong, even now.

He nods curtly, and I go inside, pulling my clothing off and letting it drop to the floor as I move to my indicated position, now only in my panties. I say nothing, letting my body language calm him more and surrender control of the situation to him.

It's nothing new, but my body still sings under his punishing hands. Part of me hopes he never gets sick of this, because now I love it too. With curt commands he orders me to go to the wooden x at the back of the room. We haven't done this in a while, and I'm excited to be tied up again, knowing that this is important for both of us.

My inner goddess puts her book away and smirks, more than ready for whatever my husband has in store for us.

"Anastasia," he starts, "what are the safe words?" I notice he didn't call me Mrs. Grey. Separation, maybe? Or perhaps he doesn't feel comfortable thinking about marriage, because then he would think about babies, and that's a place neither of us wants to go right now.

If he would just calm down for a minute and listen to me, then he would know I'm no more ready than he is to have a baby right now. As awful as it might be, deep down I know I'm not going to keep this baby. I can only hope the two of us will last long enough to get to the point where we can have that discussion.

"Yellow and red," I say confidently, looking him in the eyes. After all we've been through together, I like to think that I can handle anything he'll throw at me, but we still get our signals crossed sometimes and I could be very wrong about that.

He looks at me and a chill runs through me. "Sir," I add. He isn't fooling around. I can tell by the gentle way in which he manacles me onto the x, though, that he isn't taking this as punishment after all. Good. I want to sigh with relief, but instead I brace myself for what I see is coming next. He pulls out nipple clamps, the adjustable ones, thankfully. I know that's not all he's going to use on me, but I lose my sense of sight as he blindfolds me, leaving me completely powerless. Well, I guess he could deafen me like he did before, but I think he wants me to hear all this.

"This is about control," he says to me, reiterating my earlier words. "Not punishment. I don't want to hurt you, Ana, but I do want to control you. This is not the time to defy me."

I want to say that I would never defy him in here, which he should know. It's part of how this whole thing started. In here, I am practically a sub, and that's the only place I ever come close. I hold my tongue, knowing that my words don't need to be said.

"You are mine," he continues. "Your pain, your pleasure, your body, your soul, your mind, your heart... they all belong to me." All of a sudden, it becomes completely clear to me how out of control he must feel. For someone who thought he knew my body even better than I did, and who took such pains to make me understand this, this must be quite a blow for my body to rebel against both him and me so abruptly.

He places the adjusted nipple clamps on me, then looks at my face to make sure they are okay. Though he can't see my eyes, I know that my mouth is slightly open, betraying a mixture of pain, pleasure, and anticipation of what's to come. It reassures him.

Making some rattling noises a few steps away, Christian must be pulling some more toys out, hopefully ones that we'll both enjoy.

Suddenly a twinge of pain runs up my left thigh, curving from near my knee up to my hip. It stings slightly, and I imagine the tiny pricks of an object Christian once showed me are the cause. What was it called? Warten-something. I can't remember, but I stop trying as another sense is assaulted, a wet finger trailing down my chest, between my breasts, over my stomach, stopping just shy of the one area I most want him to touch.

I groan slightly, just softly enough that I know he hears me, but it's not pain I'm responding to, and he knows it. He must be interested in challenging me tonight because I feel another sensation before I can fully recover from the last one. This time, it's an ice cube, running up my inner thigh and over my labia. I shiver as it chills me to the core.

"Too cold?" he asks after a few minutes of grazing my skin with the quickly melting ice cube, but before I respond he continues, "Let's warm you up, then."

Even my sense of gravity is thrown off as the cross I'm strapped to rotates; this is new to the playroom. The other platform I know is mobile, but I didn't think this one was too.

There's a whisper and a click, and then I smell something burning. It's fragrant and smells vaguely of wood, with something subtly sexy underneath, but I focus more on the movement of Christian around me than anything else.

"We're going to try something new, Ana. You will like it but it will be abrupt, I'm sure. You know your safe words." He doesn't ask this time, just wants me to lie there and feel what he wants me to feel.

I don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't hot wax dripping onto my skin. I thought he only lit the candle for ambiance, but I was so wrong. My inner goddess has her eyes wide in response.

The wax starts on my arm, to test out my reaction, probably. It's hot, really hot, but it feels good. I smile, excited about this, and he is clearly encouraged by that as he moves to more sensitive parts of my body with the wax. Some drips heavily onto my breasts, the heat stinging my nipples in a most delicious way.

The little drops fall across my abdomen, and I wonder briefly if he is thinking about the baby at all. Thankfully, he moves on quickly, the hot droplets now falling across my labia, and one lands on the bit of my clit that's peeking out. I tense with feeling, straining against my bonds. It's so hot, so hot it should probably hurt, but all I feel is a wonderful warmth that excites me. Another drop falls, taking me even higher, but then I feel the wax dripping across my thigh before it is gone completely.

I miss the feeling immediately, the wax already cool on my skin and no longer activating my senses. It is replaced by another ice cube, shocking me with the difference in temperature. I rise off the cross again, needing stimulation in one particular area but not getting it.

With one hand, Christian runs the melting cube across my nipples, hardening them more than I thought was possible and making me shiver and cringe. I don't like being cold, but for this I'll take a bit of it. With his other hand, my husband has taken up that little prickly wheel again and runs in along the crease between my leg and my pelvis, then the other side.

It's temptingly close-why won't he just give me what I want? I realize that he's deliberately denying me, which I don't like, but I'm hoping he'll stop before it becomes too much of a problem. This isn't a punishment, after all, and he clearly has control over me. He has me at his mercy, here, nothing I can do, nothing I can change, except to say it's too much for me, when in reality, it's not enough.

I whimper and he takes pity on me, a "shh" escaping his lips, as he sets the two torturous items down and picks up something else. A flip of a switch and I hear a low hum, confirming that it's a vibrator of some kind.

He holds it against me for a moment, my legs clenching against my restraints in immediate response, but he removes it before I can force a tension orgasm. "Ugh," I mutter, but he's not trying to be mean. I know that, as soon as his tongue flicks against my clit, a few times in rapid succession, before he moves away again.

He runs his fingers over me, touching and flicking and squeezing gently, alternating those movements with brief vibrations from the toy and the stimulation of his own tongue. They are so brief and rapid that I feel overwhelmed by all the different sensations, but it's not enough to get me off.

My thighs are clenched so hard I get a cramp in one leg and immediately try to relax myself before it really starts to hurt. This has happened before, so it's not a huge deal and I don't want him to stop.

A few minutes of that and I can't take it anymore. "Yellow," I say, and he knows exactly why. The game has gone on long enough and I either need to come or he needs to stop completely. He chooses the former, willing to give me this pleasure over his own need to continue. Taking pity on me, he holds the vibrator against my clit, alternating the pressure, and then to finish presses two slightly wet fingers into me, moving them directly to press and rub against my g spot. I come apart instantly, the explosion long overdue. I know another touch would be too much, but I can't close my knees to his touch.

He knows me too well, though, and removes the vibrator, then his other hand, sucking at his fingertips to taste me. I hear the smacking, though the blindfold is still restricting my vision.

He sets the toy down and comes back to me, running his hands up my torso to my head, removing the blindfold and caressing my hair.

"Better?" I ask, hoping that now we can have a civilized conversation. He nods.

"I love you, Ana," Christian murmurs as he leans in for a soft kiss, not willing to overstimulate me any further.

He unlocks the cross and then tilts it back upright, bending down to undo my bonds at my feet first, then giving me a moment to regain my footing before standing back up and unfastening my wrists as well.

"Can we take a bath now?" I ask, a hint of a smile on my face. "I need to get this wax off."

"Of course, that sounds perfect," he responds, gathering me in his arms and whisking me back to our bedroom, still naked. While he runs the bath, I look at myself in the mirror and see the little splotches of colorful wax decorating my skin. I turn sideways and look at the spots on my abdomen, thoughtful.

With the bath running, Christian comes to join me and finds me like this in front of the mirror. "What are you thinking?" he asks, though it's fairly obvious at least the general direction of my thoughts.

I make eye contact with him via the mirror, and in an even tone betray my deepest feeling: "Christian, I'm not ready for a child yet. I know you aren't either. I want to enjoy just us for now, and then when we're both ready and have control over the situation, then we can consider having children."

He clearly didn't expect that from me. I suppose all men think all women are only excited to be baby factories, but I'm so young, and we've only known each other a short time still. I love this man and I know one day we'll settle down a bit, but as I see the wax on my stomach I know what we'd both be giving up to bring a child into our family right now, and neither of us is ready for that.

Christian is clearly fighting a lot of confusing emotions right now; if his eyes are any indication, he agrees and doesn't want a baby right now either, but is also realizing what that means for our present situation. If I can come to terms with it, though, so will he.

Not wanting to make a mountain out of a molehill, I smile and turn to him, taking his hand and leading him back into our bathroom. I think that everything will be okay when his voice turns lighter and he jokes, "I guess we can scratch Depo Provera off the list. What shall we try next, do you think? An IUD? The ring?"

It's a good question, and I laugh and respond, "Maybe both! Why not?" I pull him closer to me to give him a kiss, wishing that we could both be better. Maybe one day things wouldn't be so hard. I set aside my reservations and step into a warm, healing bath with my usually wonderful husband, ready to face this challenge together.

 

 


End file.
